


moments

by jedijarmarcal



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst?, F/M, but kinda not?, my version of a valentine's day fluff piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:30:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedijarmarcal/pseuds/jedijarmarcal
Summary: will use this as a collection for any klaroline drabbles I post on tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I highly recommend re-watching the scene in 4x13 where this exchange happens before reading. this is in honor of valentine's day :D

[this is a link to the scene in 4x13](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waVOi1wXrmE)

 

* * *

 

 

“How could you possibly think that?” 

He’s sitting in front of her, wanting to shake her, fists clenched because it has been a trying day. His brother, dead. Caroline...

“Because I’ve seen it.” 

Klaus catches everything, the slight downward cast of her eyes to the right, the way honesty has her words sound thicker, more full. And again! The eyes gazing down, a small flicker of doubt and yet she continues to speak.

“Because I’ve caught myself wishing that I could forget all of the horrible things that you’ve done.” Only the way her chest heaves with the effort of speaking keeps his heart from soaring.

_Hope_.

“But you can’t,” he swallows hard, knowing that anything she says now could possibly kill that warm feeling, “can you?” The irony of her imminent death is not lost on him, but she is right: he is  _hurt,_ and this isn’t about  _her._

“I know you’re in love with me.” Caroline says it like she’s unsure, that she’s expecting him to deny it, but he can see the pleading look in her eyes. A part of Klaus wants to jump up and prove her doubts right.

_Love?_  He would say, could practically taste the smirk on his lips.  _I am watching you die by my hand: is this what you call love?_

Instead, he let’s her continue.  _“_ And anybody capable of love is capable of being saved.” 

She’s laying there- 

_dying_ , he has to remind himself. 

At his hands nonetheless- 

And has the audacity to lift her chin, and speak down on him- ever the air of regality. 

A true queen. 

The girl was only moments from death, her heart rate now an afterthought to the tempo of the scene, a grace note fluttering after the fact, and she looks at him sitting there with raindrop eyes threatening to spill over, but her voice does not waiver. Even when each breath is a strangled rattle, she  _looks_  at him.

Klaus is unable to keep eye contact, feeling tears of his own shake his already shoddy composure. “You’re hallucinating.” 

She almost laughs and he longs for the full brunt of her vexation at him, but instead she settles into her position on the cough like she was going to be buried right there. “I guess I’ll never know.” 

Right as he’s about to lash out- again- her body jolts once, fear racing down his spine. “Caroline?” Her only response is two more spasms, and Klaus does not remember ever feeling the acute  _panic_  that has him in a chokehold ever before in his life. At least when he first woke after death, there was purpose, bloodlust, to his existence. 

With Caroline dead, what would move him?

Acquiescing to her will, Klaus remembers her birthday and the fire in her eyes. His heart is a crescendo racing towards that final climactic note that heralds the realization of a major life event. He hates her and his inability to function when he can smell her and see her: he doesn’t  _want_  to be the good guy. He is mourning and she doesn’t get to- her chest was still for too long.

How unfair of her to put him in this position where he can’t get his away without losing.

Losing her _._

With a annoyed grunthe scoops her up and sinks his fangs into his wrist. Deja vu clouds his mind as she latches on, her hands holding his arm at her mouth like they were lovers and this was merely a kiss hello. His fingers find a new master in between the locks of her hair as they fawn over her mere existence, and Klaus had never felt relief such as this. 

There are so many things to say, but Klaus keeps his mouth shut, not trusting himself to form the words “you’re okay, you’re going to live,” when all he could hear in his head, over and over was  _I love you, I love you, I love you._


	2. our song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a not so pleasant snapshot in time

This moment was recurring. 

“Really Klaus?”

Ah, she always leads with indignation, doesn’t she? Always the one being  _hurt_ , like he wasn’t standing here in the glorious onslaught of pain. For him, from her, always. It was an intimacy he could only match by the swell of her pleasure- which honestly, it felt like a memory he couldn’t quite recall with all of the fighting they’ve decided should take up their time.

“Oh grand!” He counted the steps of her pacing, then moving on her upbeat collapsed onto chaise, struggling to keep his cool and remember the cadence of  _her_. He would rest, let her lay into hm the staccato chastisement now pouring through her lips, then try to catch her at the coda. “Tell me, Caroline Judy and Jury, what  _mortal_  sin did I break today?”

The veins constricted in her neck were little grace note flourishes that tormented him. It was such a  _Caroline_  thing, and it mortified him that even when her face was twisted into anger he could not help but to simply adore her. 

“Your macho routine back at Rizzoli’s? They were already quivering at your presence, you didn’t have to kill half of them.”

He was before her in a flash, glowering at a distance that used to feel a lot closer than this. His lips brushed hers, but they were twisted with the defiance of his words.

“You made a choice,  _vampire_. You don’t get to demand perfection when you’ve only been in my life for  _five_  years when I’ve lived entire lifetimes before you were even born.”

“That’s not fair.” 

Was he supposed to pity her? Her face, falling like a tumbling scale skipping an octave, was intolerable and of course his crumpled too making them a discordant duet.

A duet, nonetheless.

“Ah,” he mustered a smile, “then at last we are on the same page.”

There was a time when their words carried a more feisty bite, the fight only a flirtatious jig, and this face to face crescendo would come together in a crash of their lips and the dizzying octave runs of something brassy and tumultuous. In her eyes, Klaus could see the symphony flicker in her eyes, and he hoped that the spark in his own would burn bright enough for her to catch onto. 

Lashes fluttered and her arms lifted uselessly, before falling to her sides. 

“I’ve got to go pick up the girls.” 

It took everything in him not to give in to the urge to fall to his knees and cling to her waist. He would fight, he would beg, so long as she did not leave.

For the briefest of moments, her heard her breath catch, felt the pianissimo of her mind being made. “I have to go.” She insisted softly, not meeting his eyes.

“I know.”

Hopefully her heart still heard his, understood how the deepest parts of him he still didn’t quite know how to articulate well enough to ask the desperate encore request for her return to him. 


End file.
